


A Grumpy Kind of Mug

by ianuk



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Helpful JARVIS, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 15:21:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6810835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ianuk/pseuds/ianuk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Barnes has as mission, TARGET ACQUISITION, COFFEE IN HIS MUG.  A mug that was gift from his good friends and some one is using his mug.  Mission Parameters need to be adjusted but it all works out in the end.  Fluffy and fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Grumpy Kind of Mug

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Wow, that's one Grumpy Cat- if you know what I meme](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2630687) by [Lady_Nightshade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Nightshade/pseuds/Lady_Nightshade). 



> This fic was inspired by the following story by Lady_Nightshade [ Wow, that's one Grumpy Cat- if you know what I meme](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2630687) and by this shirt which appeared on www.teefury.com shortly after I read that fic. Link to get the shirt [Grump Nyet Shirt ](http://www.redbubble.com/people/danielprez96/works/16679029-grumpy-cat-nyet?p=t-shirt)
> 
> I credit Copperbadge for the phrase “Resting Sniper Face” and it has now become part of my lexicon from [ Leader of the Free World](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6579205).
> 
> Special Thanks to my betas [mischif](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mischif) and [lferion](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lferion). I needed lots of help on this one!

There were very few things that weren't on two legs that could make James Barnes sit up and beg and one of them was coffee. The coffee in the 1940’s, specifically in the Army, was black as night and as bitter as a dame stood up for a date but it fueled many a soldier with warmth and caffeine. His time as the _Soldat_ had not involved the luxury of coffee. Tea was the Russian norm from what he could remember of that time, coffee was special and never given to the silent invisible hammer of the homeland. 

He found that rehabilitating from being _Soldat_ was at times lessons in sensory overload. Textures were off, the bed was too soft, even the toaster made electronic noises. Times had changed radically while he was purely a weapon but smell was one sense that couldn’t be burned out of his mind no matter how hard HYDRA had tried. On missions he would catch scents of things he knew but couldn’t name. Coffee he remembered again and again. When the fog of the wipes had finally left him, coffee was one of the first things he’d indulged in while on the run. Now in this modern age, coffee’s flavor matched the smell that had taunted him for 70 years. It was a _wonderful_ thing. 

He didn’t care where Stark ordered the coffee from, but the brewer in the Common Room Kitchen always had a pot going. Thinking on it, it was probably JARVIS who kept the Avengers and their cohorts buzzing with the ‘magical juice’ as Darcy was found of commenting.

This morning was hard. He’d slept fitfully, edges of barely remembered nightmares plaguing him at every attempt to fall back asleep and when Steve had awoken for his daily run he’d been so unsettled he’d been unable to fall back asleep in the pre-dawn. He’d shuffled out of their apartment and up to the common floor to search out a cup of coffee since Steve would be gone for a few hours. It was early enough that no one except maybe Stark would be about or Barton asleep on the couch or in a vent.

He didn’t care. He could smell the delicious aroma as he stepped off of the main staircase. His serum enhanced hearing zeroed in on the noise of someone moving in the kitchen. His combat reflexes tensed when his brain relayed that the person was not familiar and he felt in his sleep deprived brain the _Soldat_ trying to regain control. He squashed that sudden urge to arm himself with the reality of the situation: he was safe, in his _home_ and anyone in there was  welcome. He had personally worked with Stark and JARVIS to ensure things met his exacting security standards. He swallowed down the combat readiness of the Soldat. The only mission he needed at this very moment was Mission: coffee. Perhaps watching the sunrise on the tower’s garden terrace, clutching the warm mug while the city woke up would clear his head enough to relax him to maybe fall asleep again. 

But first, _TARGET ACQUISITION, COFFEE IN HIS MUG_. He grinned to himself that he had become so attached to a stupid coffee mug with a damn cat on it. He was not even sure he liked cats but Barton had introduced him to the sourpuss expressions of GrumpyCat and he was fascinated by it. The internet was really full of cats and James Barnes liked the grumpiest looking of them all. Natasha had gotten the mug for him as a joke after Clint had shared the memes.

 

The mug, in question, showed the cranky feline wearing a Soviet _формóвка_ styled in the propaganda of the Cold War. The NYET! in bold print had him almost to tears from laughter when he had first seen it. That was months ago, well before he really felt more James than _Soldat_ in his head as he recovered. Laughter was really the best medicine at times and he felt that that moment was a turning point in his recovery. All due to some laughter over a silly cat with an adorably grumpy face. Coffee in his mug would make him happy and would definitely settle him after the restless night.

He walked into the Common room to find the Director of SHIELD, Phil Coulson, reading from a Starkpad and drinking out of James’s mug. He stopped short.

Coulson looked up from his reading, “Good Morning, Sergeant, JARVIS said you were coming up for coffee,” he said quietly. “It just finished.” Gesturing behind himself with the _TARGET_.

The _Soldat_ shifted within his head and they both agreed this did not make them happy. He let out a shaky breath and forced himself to walk into the kitchen like a human being. He had a _MISSION_ and he could make accommodations for hospitality. _TARGET ACQUISITION: COFFEE, PARAMETER ADJUSTMENT, MUG FORMAT VARIABLE_. The _Soldat_ grumbled again. Well, they could grudgingly make accommodations. His memories of his childhood were very clear now. His own mother and Steve’s mom would have had his hide for griping about something as dumb as a coffee mug.

“Morning, Director,” he mumbled. Coulson nodded at him and went back to sipping his coffee and reading. James consciously didn’t use his prosthetic arm to grab another mug from the quaint rack under the counter. His biological hand hovered over a plain Stark Industries mug before he grabbed Steve’s mug, _Keep Calm and Carry On_ , and poured it to the brim, breathing in the calming balm. Steven wouldn’t mind, he’d realize James was coping with a change in _parameters_. James would make sure it was washed if he was awake when Steve got back from his run.

Taking a too hot sip from the black cup the _Soldat_ finally quieted down completely. _TARGET ACQUIRED WITHIN ADJUSTED PARAMETERS_. He shifted his shoulders back with a satisfying reset in the artificial joint as the tension eased within him. The aroma from the cup was heady. It almost reminded him of roasted marshmallows and caramel. He sighed, breathing across the cup to cool the surface, just before he took another sip. The flavors across his tongue danced and settled into a smooth body of the coffee. It reminded him of the porters they drank in London during the war but sweeter. It was so good. Another satisfied drink had him turning back around to face Coulson, with what he hoped was a less steely gaze.

The director looked up and saluted with his mug, his calm expression changing quizzically at the visage now staring him in the face from the mug. Coulson raised another eyebrow when he looked at Barnes. James tried not to growl but did roll his eyes. He’d heard the same remarks from Stark months ago that he looked like the damn cat. James sighed and attempted to smile and hoped it didn’t look vicious or, well... grumpy...just tired. 

“Ah... I see we have the same set of friends,” Coulson commented. Taking another swig of coffee, Barnes raised his own eyebrow in question.

“I have a mug that states ‘I HATE MONDAYS’ with the same cat. I had thought my team on the Bus was behind it but....” Coulson looked up thoughtfully. James’s eyes followed up to the main air handling duct and he smiled a large knowing smile as he followed Coulson’s train of thought. 

“Clint?” Coulson called. A faint shuffling was heard above them. James sipped his coffee, ready to watch how this played out.

“Yes, Sir?” came the quiet reply. Coulson grinned conspiratorially taking another drink of his coffee.

“Have you, in the last six months, infiltrated the Bus, or organized an infiltration of the Bus with the sole purpose to place an item on my desk?” Coulson stated, his tone shifting to a more authoritative air. 

The _Soldat_ stirred in James’s head but again, he drank his coffee, calming down again. Breathing in the dark flavors, he shifted his shoulders that had tensed at Coulson’s change of tone. Coulson’s sharp eye didn’t miss the shift and he nodded at James. James swallowed another mouthful of the coffee further settling the _Soldat_. He anticipated what came next as he’d seen it now too many times to even blink, even when he was on edge. He was not on edge, he had _TARGET ACQUIRED: COFFEE_ and took another slow swallow.

Clint gracefully dropped from the vent above to between them wearing a smirk. He immediately shifted to a blank “resting sniper face” that James knew all too well, snapping into a crisp salute. “ _Nyet_ , Director, it was not my _sole_ purpose.” His accent, in James’s opinion, was perfect for a soldier from Odessa. Coulson shook his head as Clint maintained his stiff posture, sighed and took a drink of his coffee, the mug staring Clint in the face. 

“I don’t want to know what you did, do I?” Coulson’s voice was full of affection and a bit of exasperation. Clint’s body loosened out of the salute to his normal, comfortable stance as he sauntered towards the counter, not looking at either of them. Clint grabbed a very worn ‘ _Dog Cops’_ mug from the rack and slowly filled it, obviously taking his time in answering. Clint gulped down what had to be half the mug in one swallow, then looked up with a satisfied smirk. 

“No, Sir. I don’t think you want to know,” Clint answered. He then drained the rest of the mug before refilling it. James looked to Coulson for his reaction; he’d only met the man once and had no idea how he’d deal with Clint when he’s acting, well, like Clint? Coulson's only reaction to the statement was to pinch the bridge of his nose.

Clint leaned against the counter next to James and gestured to Coulson’s mug. “You know why you don’t want to know, Director?” he drawled.

“Why is that, Barton?” Phil asked cautiously. Barton winked at James

“Because, it’s Monday, Sir.” Clint responded in a perfect deadpan. Clint’s expression was innocent and sincere but to James, it seemed there was a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

“Oh, and we wouldn’t want to make you Grumpy, sir” James commented, quelling his features to match Clint.

He managed to hold the expression until Coulson rolled his eyes, and couldn't keep himself from grinning.

Coulson grinned back at him, honest mirth across his features and Clint giggled, when the hell did Barton _giggle_ -?!

With that James lost all of his stoic composure and let loose with a belly laugh at the silliness of the entire situation. That damn grumpy cat, again, making him accept that things aren’t always serious and if they are, it is just fine to look for the humor, however dark, in any situation. It helps to cope and move on. A rough night doesn’t mean the day had to be. Coffee and laughter with people make up for a great deal. Super spies and secret government agents all maneuvering to prank one another with coffee cups and who knew what else was ridiculous. All due to a sourpuss of a cat and a grumpy kind of mug.


End file.
